


one look at you (now every note feels right)

by orphan_account



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Apotheosis, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Jazz Lounge, M/M, No established relationship, Slow Dancing, Swearing, but not in excess stay safe kids, i don't know how to tag things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23602135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Slowly, experimentally, the professor began tapping out a tune. It started light and melodic. Quiet, twinkling notes filled the air, dancing through the lights and crowds like chords of silk. He glanced up at Ted, who gave him a grin. Returning it, he began playing with more confidence, until a symphony of notes filled the room. The music he made was beautiful. Ted thought it was unlike anything he had ever heard. The notes he played were full of longing, passion, love. They overwhelmed him.Ted closed his eyes and let the music take over, swaying slightly with it. He wanted to dance. He really wanted to take Henry’s hands from the piano, pull him close, and dance to his beautiful music. But if they danced, there would be no more beautiful music.All too soon the piano fell silent, and Ted opened his eyes to find Henry looking at him. He beamed.“See? Wasn’t that hard. That was beautiful.”
Relationships: (Background) Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins, Henry Hidgens/Ted, Tedgens - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	one look at you (now every note feels right)

**Author's Note:**

> This all came to me when I was listening to Sarah Brown Eyes in the middle of the night. I haven't written in a few years so it's a little rusty. Sorry about that.

The air in the lounge was hazy and red, filled with smoke from the cigarettes of the patrons and illuminated by strips of scarlet lights along the walls. It hardly seemed like the type of place Paul would frequent, and they likely wouldn’t be there at all if not for Emma. Paul invited Bill and Charlotte to visit with them, and of course Ted had to invite himself as well. Couldn’t let everyone else have all the fun. That fun was spoiled a bit when Charlotte cancelled because Sam was coming home early that day, and then a bit more when Bill had to stay home with Alice. So, it was just him, Paul, and Emma. Could still be fun. Maybe he could take someone home. God knows he wasn’t just going to lurk by Paul and Emma’s sides all night long, especially not with them all over each other.  
The lounge didn’t seem like the kind of place where taking someone home would be easy, though. It reeked of cheap class. People pretending to be more than they were. The nicest thing in the place was the grand oak piano, pushed into the corner with come white lights on it disrupting the haze. At the piano sat a man who, in Ted’s opinion, was much nicer than the piano. He was slender and pale, sitting straight but still visibly relaxed. His long fingers danced across the ivory of the piano, and Ted couldn’t help but imagine what else he could do with hands like that. The room was filled with chatter, but the beautiful melody coming from that corner seemed to drown it all out.  
“Hey, is that-- Professor Hidgens! Hey!”  
Emma began pushing past people towards the piano player, apparently recognizing him. Paul followed dutifully, and Ted trailed behind. The man looked up when he heard his name, but continued to play without missing a key. When the group reached his side, he gave them a small smile.  
“Hello, Emma.”  
“I didn’t know you worked here, professor. These are my friends, this is Paul, and his coworker Ted. Paul, Ted, this is professor Hidgens. He teaches my biology class.”  
Hidgens turned his smile to them, and Ted’s stomach did a flip. Wow. He had never seen a smile like that. Well, that was a lie. He had seen plenty of nice smiles. But something about the professor’s made him feel jittery.  
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”  
Paul returned the smile, politely but nervously. “Nice to meet you.”  
Ted, being the only one who hadn’t said anything, felt a sudden pressure. He had to make a good impression. Something witty, flirty. Something that would leave the man remembering him for a long time.  
He nodded. “‘Sup.”  
The professor granted him the dignity of turning back to the piano, before he could embarrass himself any further.  
Emma tugged on Paul’s sleeve, shooting Hidgens another smile.  
“Well, we’re gonna go get some drinks. See ya, professor.”  
The three of them pushed through the crowd again, this time to the bar at the other end of the room. Paul and Emma found seats and started talking, but Ted broke off from them. Paul only drank when he was stressed, and he didn’t really know Emma that well. Plus, it was easier to pick people up if you weren’t with some weird couple.  
Sliding to the opposite side of the bar from Paul and Emma, Ted grabbed the attention of a bartender.  
“Whiskey. Rocks.”  
The bartender got started on his drink, and Ted scanned the lounge. It wasn’t midnight yet, pretty early. There were a decent amount of people there, but no one caught his eye. His mind went back to the professor. Taking his drink, he looked over to the corner with the piano. The music he played was quiet and jazzy, not much for dancing. At the same time as Ted took a sip, eyes locked on the professor, he looked up. Their gazes met, and Ted quickly averted his eyes. Fuck. Why was he acting like this? Resolving himself, he looked back to confidently make eye contact, maybe even throw in a wink, but Hidgens had already looked back down to his piano.  
Heaving a sigh, Ted took another sip before heading over to the piano, shoving rudely through the crowd and muttering apologies absentmindedly. When he reached the piano man, he stood there for a minute, panicking. What was the plan? He stared blankly at Hidgens, trying to figure out what to do.  
“Good evening, Ted.”  
The professor’s voice started him out of his stupor, and he leaned against the wall, attempting to appear casual.  
“Hi.”  
There was a beat of silence. Ted didn’t know what to say to him.  
“Enjoying your night so far?”  
“Is professor your first name or do you not have one?”  
They both spoke at the same time. If he hadn’t already been slightly inebriated, he would have been more embarrassed. But the whiskey was getting to him, and he took another sip.  
Hidgens cleared his throat. “No. My name is Henry.”  
Ted slowly nodded. “Henry. You play nice piano, Henry.”  
He smiled softly, keeping his gaze on the keys in front of him. “Thank you. I’ve been playing for a long time.”  
“Not very good music for dancing, though. What is this, light jazz?”  
“A form of jazz, yes. If you haven’t noticed, this is hardly a dancing establishment. It likes to pretend to be classier than it is.”  
“What are you doing here, then?”  
Henry seemed to hesitate, but his fingers kept moving.  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean, you’re like, all fancy and stuff. Polished and smart and hot and whatever. Why wouldn’t you be at a real classy place?”  
“It’s just a job on the side. It pays, and I get to make music.” Ted was relieved that he didn’t acknowledge the fact that he called him hot, but also a bit disappointed.  
“Yeah, and what’s up with the music you do make? It all sounds the same. It’s like you’ve just been playing one really long song this whole time.”  
“I play what my employers want me to play.” Henry hesitated, his hands at last slowing a bit over the keys.  
“But… I do write my own music. Similar to this, but, well…” He seemed to regret saying anything, and prepared a retraction, but Ted spoke first.  
“Play something you wrote.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“Play something you wrote.” Ted repeated, as if it was stupidly simple.  
“I can’t. I’m working, I’m being paid to play this.”  
“Who cares? No one is listening. Look around. Everyone is drunk and trying to get laid, and pretending that they’re not.”  
Henry slowed his playing to an eventual stop, and looked around. He bit his lip before taking a deep breath.”  
“Very well. I suppose there’s no harm. My boss isn’t in today, anyways.”  
His hands hovered over the piano, hesitating once more.  
“I don’t know what to play.”  
“Just make something up.”  
“It’s not that simple.”  
“Sure it is.”  
Henry sighed and ran a hand through his silver hair, which Ted found especially gorgeous after finishing his whiskey.  
“Alright.”  
Slowly, experimentally, the professor began tapping out a tune. It started light and melodic. Quiet, twinkling notes filled the air, dancing through the lights and crowds like chords of silk. He glanced up at Ted, who gave him a grin. Returning it, he began playing with more confidence, until a symphony of notes filled the room. The music he made was beautiful. Ted thought it was unlike anything he had ever heard. The notes he played were full of longing, passion, love. They overwhelmed him.  
Ted closed his eyes and let the music take over, swaying slightly with it. He wanted to dance. He really wanted to take Henry’s hands from the piano, pull him close, and dance to his beautiful music. But if they danced, there would be no more beautiful music.  
All too soon the piano fell silent, and Ted opened his eyes to find Henry looking at him. He beamed.  
“See? Wasn’t that hard. That was beautiful.”  
“Thank you.”  
“How did you come up with it?”  
Henry folded his hands, his eyes flicking across Ted’s face.  
“I was inspired by my surroundings.”  
Ted wasn’t sure how to take that. Was he flirting with him? It was hard to tell.  
Placing his empty glass on the piano, Ted decided to take a risk. Chock full of liquid courage, he extended a hand to Henry.  
“Dance with me.”  
Henry seemed taken aback by the sudden request. “Ted, I’m working.”  
“So? No one is paying attention.”  
“There will be no music if I’m dancing.”  
“That’s alright.”  
He regarded Ted for a long moment, and the other man began to get nervous. Henry didn’t want to dance with him. It was stupid of him to ask. He wasn’t flirting, it was just a stupid song about the lounge and drunk people or whatever.  
Just as Henry opened his mouth to speak, Paul appeared by their side.  
“Hey, Ted. Emma has work tomorrow, so we’re gonna head out. Are you coming?”  
Ted glanced at Henry, but the professor was just watching them expressionlessly.  
“Yeah,” he said after a moment, “let me just pay for my drink.”  
Paul nodded, then looked at Hidgens.  
“It was nice to meet you.”  
“Likewise.”  
He walked off, leaving Ted and Henry as alone as they could be in a crowded lounge. Clearing his throat, Ted picked up his empty glass, giving the professor a smile.  
“I’ll see you around.”  
“I hope so, Ted.”  
Ted turned and walked to the bar to pay his tab, and then left the lounge with Paul and Emma, with Emma giggling and talking for the entire walk to the car Paul borrowed from Bill.  
***  
It was two weeks before Ted saw Henry again. He wanted to go back to the lounge every day after meeting him, but he couldn’t find the right excuse. The people were boring, the lights hurt his eyes, and the alcohol was nothing special. Wanting to see Henry felt like a pathetic excuse to him, but it was all he had.  
He tried to get Paul to invite him to go there again, but Paul didn’t seem particularly interested.  
“C’mon, Paul, we need another night like that one. That was fun, wasn’t it? It was fun. We got to let loose, have some drinks, get to know each other…”  
“We barely interacted. You ran off, like, the moment we got there. And I didn’t drink.”  
“Paul, listen, buddy, pal. Mi amigo. Don’t tell me you don’t wanna get another opportunity to hang out with that barista chick, Emily or whatever. I was being a good wingman, man. Letting you two have some alone time.”  
Paul blushed, his eyes darting around as if she would somehow hear. She was probably at work, down the street.  
“Her name is Emma. And I- I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no- There’s nothing there. No wingman-ing necessary. I gotta go, Ted, I have some reports to get done for Mr. Davidson.”  
As Paul rushed away, Ted shouted after him. “Hey, come on! Hey! Doesn’t anyone like to have fun around here?”  
Resigning himself, Ted returned to his desk and got back to work. If working was thinking about Henry, and his hands and his song and his smile.  
***  
He was approached by Paul a few days later, right before quitting time.  
“Hey, Ted.” He tapped Ted’s desk nervously, giving half of a sheepish grin.  
“What do you want, Paul?”  
“Oh, nothing. Just, uh, I stopped at Beanies for some coffee and talked to Emma a bit--”  
“Who?”  
Paul’s expression fell. “The- The barista. The girl who invited us to that lounge you wanna go to.”  
Ted stared at him blankly.  
“Professor Hidgen’s friend.”  
“Oh! Oh, yeah, her. Yeah. Her.”  
Paul looked at Ted with disbelief for a moment before continuing.  
“So, anyways, I talked to Emma, and it turns out she had a lot of fun that night, too. She’s been meaning to ask me- us- to go again.”  
“Sounds great, Paul. I’ll think about it.”  
“I... you were the one insisting on going back in the first place.”  
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. Look, I said I’ll think about it. Might have better things to do than hang out with you losers, I dunno.”  
“Ok, Ted. See ya.”  
Paul turned to go, and right before he stepped out of Ted’s cubicle, Ted leaned back in his chair and called after him.  
“Alright! I’ve thought about it. I’ll go. Just to help you out.”  
Paul stopped, and sighed before turning around. He put on a smile. “Great, Ted. I’ll see you there.”  
“Sure thing, pal. Hey, maybe loosen up a little more this time, eh? We can always call an Uber.”  
“I think I’m good. Thanks.” He paused for a beat. “Bye.”  
“Later.”  
Ted watched as Paul awkwardly left, waiting until he was gone. A few minutes after he was gone, Ted punched the air.  
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!”  
***  
Ted was two hours late. He couldn’t just show up at the same time as everyone else. Only losers did that. Really, he just got caught up overthinking things. Should he go home and change first? What should he wear? What kind of person did Henry seem like he liked? Probably intellectuals. Should he wear a suit? No, that would be weird. In the end, he stood outside the door to his apartment for 20 minutes before entering, grabbing a beer, and falling asleep on his couch for several hours. When he woke up and saw the time, he rushed out of the house, still in his work clothes.  
But that didn’t stop him from making a smooth entrance.  
He strutted into the lounge with the confidence of someone who was absolutely intentionally later than fashionable, expecting envious stares and people offering themselves at his feet. He got none of that. He did, however, immediately run into a woman and spill her drink all over her.  
“Dude, what the fuck!”  
“Watch it, lady.” Ted didn’t bother to even glance at the woman, already heading towards the bar.  
“Are you fucking kidding me?”  
A man spoke up. “Hey, man, that wasn’t very nice.”  
Ted spun around. “Yeah? I-- Oh.”  
The woman he’d run into was Emma. The man who spoke was Paul.  
“Oh, shit. Uh, my bad, um…”  
“Emma.” Paul said. “When did you get here, Ted?”  
“Bro, who cares about that, look at my fucking shirt!”  
Emma pulled at the wet grey material, staining amber.  
“Sorry about that. Why don’t you just take it off? I’m sure Paul would be into that, right?”  
“You’re disgusting.”  
“Ignore him, Emma.” Paul shrugged off his jacket, holding it out to her. “Here. You can put this on.”  
Ted watched them for a moment, before he turned again.  
“Welp, glad I could help. Sorry about your shirt, Emily.”  
“Emma.”  
“Whatever. See ya.”  
“Asshole.”  
“Likewise.”  
Ted walked away to the bar, but not before glancing back at them. Paul was awkwardly fussing over Emma, trying to help without being too direct. He supposed he sort of helped, then. No need to feel bad.  
Getting to the bar, Ted ordered the same drink as always. Whiskey on the rocks. He allowed his eyes to scan the room for a moment before they landed on Henry. He sat in the same corner at the same piano, a picture of elegance and grace. Fuck, he was hot.  
Ted slammed back his drink, sliding a few bills onto the bar before pushing through the crowd. Stepping next to the piano, he leaned against the wall.  
“Hey.”  
Henry looked up.  
“Hello, Ted.”  
He returned his gaze to the piano, and Ted didn’t know what to say anymore.  
“You, uh… come here often?”  
“I work here.”  
“Oh. Yeah.”  
They fell into silence for a long moment. Henry continued to play the piano, while Ted watched him. The silence wasn’t as awkward as it could have been. He liked listening to Henry play. He almost felt comfortable, standing there, away from the crowd, in nicer lights. Just being with Henry. Fucking gay.  
“Can you play the song again?”  
“What song?” Henry didn’t look up.  
Ted frowned, stepping to the side so that he could face Henry. “The one you wrote last time.”  
“Oh, that. I don’t remember it.”  
Ted once again found himself at loss for words.  
“But it was good. I liked it.”  
Henry didn't respond, finishing what was playing. He moved to begin the next song, but hesitated. Straightening his back, Henry began playing the piano once more. His fingers danced across the keys like ballerinas, graceful and precise. Ted recognized the melody.  
“I thought you forgot it.”  
“I remembered.”  
Ted grinned, taking this as a win, and he saw Henry try to hide a smile in response. They stayed like that for a few minutes, Ted smiling and listening and swaying, while Henry played. When the song ended, Henry made no move to start another. He stared down at the piano, biting his lip. Ted filled the silence.  
“You should get that produced. Like, professionally, or whatever.”  
Henry shook his head at this, looking up. When his eyes met Ted’s, Ted felt the air leave his lungs. His eyes were beautiful. Had they always been that gorgeous? How did he not notice?  
“I wrote it for you.”  
“Uh, yeah, I told you to. Doesn’t mean you can’t get it produced. I have pretty good taste.”  
“No- it’s for you. It’s… about you.” He hesitated, glancing away. “The sounds, the notes, the song, they’re how you make me feel.”  
Oh. “Is that bad?”  
“No, it’s- well. I supposed that depends.”  
“On what?”  
“How you feel.”  
Henry couldn’t possibly be asking what Ted thought he was asking. No way. He was misinterpreting it. It was best to get out of there before he embarrassed himself.  
“I feel like I need a drink.”  
And with that, he walked back to the bar. And he stayed at the bar until the lounge closed.  
***  
When Ted stepped outside of the lounge, he immediately spotted Henry nearby, smoking a cigarette. He should apologize for running off. That was rude. Reluctantly, he approached the older man.  
“Hey.”  
Henry glanced over at him, and blew some smoke out of his mouth, hugging his arms against the cold.  
“Hey.”  
There was a pause.  
“I’m sorry about running off on you-”  
“I’m sorry for springing that on you-”  
They spoke at the same time, but Ted was quick to wave Henry off.  
“No, me first. Don’t apologize. I’m sorry for running off. That was like, a douche move.”  
Henry shifted, looking down. “Thank you.”  
Ted wasn’t sure what to do next. Did he tell him how he felt? Walk away? Henry probably wanted him to leave after that bullshit.  
“And I, uh… I still like the song. With… what it’s about. I like it more that way. Cause I like what it’s about. You get what I’m saying?”  
Henry smiled, and dropped his cigarette, smothering it with his heel. He looked up to meet Ted’s gaze. There was a long silence, as they just gazed at each other.  
“I believe I owe you a dance?”  
Ted smiled slightly. “But there’s no music.”  
The professor turned his face to the sky.  
“The stars can be the music. And the wind and the cold. And,” he hesitantly reached for Ted’s hand, taking it into his own, “your hand in mine is music like none I’ve ever heard.”  
Ted never failed to find himself at a loss for what to say when speaking to Henry. After a moment, Henry blushed, and began to let Ted’s hand slip from his own. “Sorry, that was too much. I--”  
He was cut short by Ted tightening his grip on his hand, and suddenly pulling him into his arms.  
“Don’t apologize. That was beautiful. Gay as fuck, but beautiful.”  
He smiled, placing his hand on Henry’s hip, and began swaying. Henry returned the smile, swaying with him. They held each other close, dancing in the moonlight, beneath silver stars and a midnight sky. And as they twirled in time with the music of the universe, they found that neither could have wished for anything more.


End file.
